Always Right
by BabyCharmander
Summary: Why do they follow the Ancient Minister so eagerly, even as he leads them to their death? One-shot based on the Subspace Emissary plot of Brawl.


Hiya folks! Captain Flametail, also known as BabyCharmander, here. This is my first ever attempt at a Smash Bros. fic. Eheh… I've read them before and I've always liked the more serious ones, though I never thought I would write one myself. But thanks to Brawl's having an actual _plot, _I was struck with IN-SPUH-RAYE-SHUN! …I guess, anyway. It was about 10 PM when I was inspired to write this and I didn't start writing until midnight due to homework. I write weird stuff when I write in the middle of the night like that, but people seem to like it, so… Yeah.

Keep in mind that because this is my first Smash Bros. related fic, it's probably not all that great. But that doesn't mean I don't want constructive criticism! If you find something in this fic that you didn't like or if you spot an error, don't hesitate to tell me.

And uh… sorry if something like this has been done before? Brawl hasn't even been out in the US for a week yet, though, so maybe not…

**WARNING: **This fic contains spoilers for the Subspace Emissary! If you haven't played it yet, don't read this fic unless you want to get spoiled!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters in this fic. Nintendo owns them.

On with the fic!

* * *

They were gone.

Actually, they weren't gone—not yet, anyway. They had only just rolled out the door, following the Ancient Minister, as always. They would be gone in a matter of hours, and they knew it. They knew that they were the ones that would set off that bomb that their master carried around, and they knew that they wouldn't survive the blast. Yet, they followed. After all, the Ancient Minister was always right.

Their colleagues watched as the doors slid shut automatically. One of them seemed to droop in sorrow; those ones had been made around the same time as he had. He had "grown up" with them, so to speak, even though robots never really grew. The second they had rolled out that door, he knew he would never see them again.

The others appeared to be saddened as well, and began to roll away slowly. One, noticing that his colleague was still slumped over, reached out his arm and tapped him on the side.

He turned his head, staring at the other robot for a while, before straightening up and rolling away. He couldn't grieve for long… There were bombs to be made.

That was the way things were, now. Before, none of them had to worry about leaving permanently or creating weapons. They used to live peacefully, with the Ancient Minister residing over them… But things had changed. Now, they made bombs, day in, and day out.

These bombs were specially designed to absorb large masses of land and transport them to Subspace. To activate them, two Sentry units had to grab hold of special handles on either side of the bomb and keep hold of them. Unfortunately, this would destroy them in the process.

Why would the Ancient Minister, the one who created them, force them to make weapons that would kill them? Though some of them may have wondered this at one point, they dismissed the thought. They never questioned _his_ orders. They put their trust in him, despite the sadness it brought them. He created them. He would not make them do something that wasn't right. So, if he ordered them to create bombs that would destroy them, then it must be right. The Ancient Minister was _always_ right.

However… Their question, though unasked, was soon answered.

One day, the Ancient Minister did not want to make bombs. He ordered everyone to stop, which they did. But then something very strange happened.

A hologram of a man appeared. This man, named Ganondorf, wanted the Ancient Minister to continue making the Subspace bombs. The Ancient Minister refused, and told everyone to not pay attention to the hologram. Ganon warned that this was a bad idea, but was ignored.

Just as the robots began to roll away, something stopped them.

The next thing they knew, the Ancient Minister was on the ground, rather than hovering in the air. His robes were torn and burnt, and he was slowly dragging himself across the room in short jerks. The hologram of Ganondorf was gone.

Nowadays, the Ancient Minister _never_ seemed to be happy, but the others knew that if they disobeyed Ganon, he would be even less happy, and it wasn't hard to see why. Ganon was now in charge of their master, and, thus, in charge of them also. They did not know why this man was ordering their master around, but they did not question his orders. The Ancient Minister was always right, so Ganon must be right, as well.

It did not help to ease their sorrow, however. The robots knew that every day their friends were dying, and soon they would die, too, by the very bombs they were creating. But still they continued their work, even as their master led their colleagues to their death.

It wasn't long before the Ancient Minister returned. He hovered into the room, hesitating for a moment before picking up one of the Subspace bombs. Once this was accomplished, he stared down at one of the Sentry units—the same one that had been grieving the loss of his friends only a few hours ago.

The Sentry unit did not complain. He and a number of others followed their master out of the room and down the hallways, never hesitating, never questioning. The Ancient Minister was always right.

It took their visual sensors a moment to get used to the sunlight outside, as it had been a very long time since these units had been outside the factory. They boarded a semi-large skiff, which flew off of the Island of the Ancients and towards the world below. Soon, it landed in a desert-like area, and the robots rolled off of the ship.

The Ancient Minister led them across the desert-like place, never stopping. The Sentry units, which had been rather clean before, were now getting battered by the winds and dirtied by the sands. A few even got rocks caught in their wheels, but they never complained. The Ancient Minister was always right.

Suddenly, a bomb echoed off in the distance. They all turned to stare at the enormous, purple sphere that engulfed what appeared to be the side of a mountain. While the others were watching this, one Sentry unit turned his head to see the Ancient Minister turn away from the explosion, as though he couldn't stand to look at it.

He didn't have to, though, for something diverted his attention. Quickly he moved out of the path of a strange, glowing arrow, which barely missed him. Off in the distance stood a number of creatures—a few humans, and some other things that the Sentry units had never seen before. Though the robots didn't know what these things were, they knew one thing: These creatures were attacking their master, and they were going to defend him.

They stood between the Ancient Minister and the ones attacking him, prepared to fight to the death. One Sentry unit, however, noticed that his master was still holding the Subspace bomb—he had forgotten to drop it. He knew that if they did not detonate it, Ganondorf would be angry, and bad things would happen to their master. Not wanting this to happen, he leapt into the air and grabbed onto the bomb, yanking it to the ground.

This, however, was a quick, sudden maneuver, and the robot hadn't had time to calculate how much the bomb probably weighed, and how much weight he had the capacity to hold. As a result, he crashed, head snapping off of his body and clattering to the ground.

Two of the other Sentry units stopped fighting and turned to look at the bomb. Wasting no time, they both rushed up to the weapon, stopping only to nod "goodbye" to each other. They hooked themselves to the bomb, knowing that within minutes they would be gone. Two of the attackers—both human-like—tried to stop them, but the robots held fast. The Ancient Minister wanted them to set off this bomb, and the Ancient Minister was always right.

The other robots pulled the attackers a distance away from the bomb and released them. Instead of heading back to the bomb to try to stop it, the creatures rushed away from it as quickly as they could. This left the rest of the robots—five, maybe six Sentry units—all alone, while their master flew away.

One Sentry unit, though he had been grieving the loss of his friends from earlier, felt oddly calm as he watched his master fly away. He knew he had less than a minute to live, and felt that it would only be appropriate if he said "farewell" to the one who had created him. He reached out one arm and waved "goodbye."

Seconds later, he heard the bomb explode behind him, but he wasn't worried. The Ancient Minister had wanted them to detonate the bomb.

And the Ancient Minister was always right.


End file.
